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You've Been Timetabled
The Exclusion Zone    Reposts of great work from HP writers, so they can be spotlighted and not lost. Inspired by ScriptedReposts. And dedicated to all the reposters on ...
Mrs Timetable
F/The Exclusion Zone    Wife of Carlo C. Gomez, writer here at Hello Poetry and also shot this photo. Also, I run with safety scissors and paint my face ...

Poems

Chuck Kean Jun 2023
MRS TIMETABLE

     Tick Tock, Tick Tock
The second hand fly’s
We can’t stop time
Everyone is born and everyone dies

Make the best of everyday
Let Love flow from your heart
Better how life is together
Then it is to be apart

The world is impossible on its own
Let alone we fuss and fight
In the end does it really matter
Who was wrong and who was right

Stop listening to the media
As they only tell us lies
Jesus says love is the answer
His word is the only one that applies

We all need to love as much as we can
And for as long as we are able
Because we all live under the same
Rules of MRS TIMETABLE

Written By:Charles Kean
06/23/2023
Dedicated to MRS TIMETABLE
Thank you for your heart and spirit
And inspiration, God Bless!!!
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2017
all I've learned from love


<•>

for the fedora man, 10/29/17 10:34am

<•>

another song done me wrong on a Sunday morn,
so much due to do, a list not for compilation/publication,
including poems promised and weighty deadlines overdue,
for its tedium would still be lbs. heavy in weightless space

instead a lyric plucks my attention, of course beeping,
insistent chirping a chorus of, write me right now,
immédiatement dans son français de Montréal,
this is the item that needs to be list topping,
now whispering a messenger-angel name dropping
a request formal from the fedora man dressed in black

all I've learned from love,  
a listing doomed to comprehensible incompletion,
a listing to the right as new reasons in-come
constantly from the left, each heart beat a
remarkable reminder that the list grows longer

every day, the repeating seasons, proffer suggestions,
disguised as a newly revised ten commandments,
obedience to which is a wish list for
attaining grace

all I've learned from love is its duality, essential quality,
a human single cannot attain the commingling required
for the visioning a peak season of life colorful,
its sad corollary, leaves falling exposing the body bare-****** of the soul linear alone

all I've learned from love is its shining skin is an agreed upon
indefinable nature, other than we all recognize how our
definition personal exists in that Ven diagrams space where
our circles intersect, when A breaks the skin of B, creating
{A,B}

all I've learned from love is without it no matter what
somewhere inside is a desperation pocket that is
an inquisitive irritant, a brain burr, a pea under the mattress,
a high and mighty 1% of disarmament incompetence that rules the imbalanced balance of my bottom line on the top of my head

all I've learned from love that it appears on its own timetable,
in surprising trains and planes and baseball games, sitting
alone in a theater or in front of a Rubens, on crazy disastrous
first dates in foreign countries at cafes or non gender
specific bathrooms amidst alternating currents of
this is crazy and this is infinite and ever so sobering
wondrous possible


all I've learned from love is it never shoots straight,
but will always end in a holy bullseye


*Tout ce que j'ai appris de l'amour, c'est qu'elle ne tire jamais directement,
mais se terminera toujours dans une sainte bullseye
Eriko  Sep 2015
timetable
Eriko Sep 2015
the sporadic tension looming on shoulders
the creeping panic which eats minds alive
quick breaths, uneasy stances
the knotted fists held to mouths
afraid of the next vowels to slip
plunge into midnight terrains
at how waxy orange lamps
pool on blank pavements
and ridden sneakers scrape
and drag with all the fright  
the spilling of chilly freeze
bites in pockets of air
and crevasses deep inside the chest
the flesh of bones travel
where the feet may go,
having a mind of its own
the dew on each swaying grass blade
glinting like jewels on your feet
sitting on the cold concrete
here I wait for the shout of your presence
as you follow the tug of your dampened vigor
watching your shadow slide across
the blank howls of nightly ground
and as the lines tangle in your hair
and **** up that inner flare
remember, its okay to let go
and not to put everything within a timetable
there doesn't have to be a label
of our very own existence